your scent still lingers (you left, yet your remnants still remain)
by ShadowWeaver29
Summary: The smell of Amortentia. The smell of Tom. The smell of lies and betrayal. Amortentia scents were always right so why was he - the one who ruined her -included in the mix? (Female Harry; Fem!Harry; Third Year)
1. i: a mirror

Amortentia.

The strongest love potion of all time. It was a powerful and dangerous potion in even the most innocent of hands. It created an infatuation - not quite love - like no other.

The potion was designed to make the one who drank it to become obsessed with the one who administered it.

The scent was unique to each and every person. The scent was that of things they find the most attractive, things they _love_.

Even if the person smelling it may not accept their affections or even know about it, the potion would still register the object.

When Briar moved to the golden plated cauldron that was emitting a scent that brought her in like nothing ever before, she couldn't help but follow the tantalizing smell. She bent her head down by a bit to get a closer inspection of what she smelt. Briar's eyes closed and let the fragrance of the potion consume her.

 **Aged leather and parchment, pine and ash, lilies, a breathe of fresh air when flying in the sky, a hint of treacle tart, and ink... Most of the scents reminder her of-**

Her eyes widened and she staggered as she tried to remain her footing once more.

 _It was a mistake_ , she thought, _coming here._

 _"When you smell the potion, its scent takes on what you adore or love the most. I didn't smell much but fresh air and candles that are frequently lit by Mum."_

She had listened to the ramblings of her upperclassmen and had wanted to know what it was she had smelt. It had seemed like a great idea. Now, she regretted her decision.

Briar wanted to scream, shout, sob, and all things in between where no one could find her. She hadn't allowed herself to do these things previously because she was able to distract herself with everyone waking up from their prolonged sleep, Ginny - sweet, _sweet_ Ginny - and of course Professor Dumbledore with his words that tried to ease her into what she now knew was something called being - _completely and utterly_ \- let down.

She couldn't recall what occurred after her leave from the damp dungeons but somehow when she recollected her surroundings she found herself in front of a door that was entirely new to her - which wasn't quite possible as she had scourged the entire castle her first two years - and it seemed to be on the seventh floor.

Despite being a Gryffindor, there were reasons on why she was almost a Slytherin and one was because she believed in self-preservation - at least most of the time - but alas there were also reasons why she was chosen for Gryffindor and thus she opened the door.

When she entered she was not expecting a very familiar imposing and golden mirror and in front of it was a throne - facing the mirror - fit for that of a queen.

Even from here she could read the horrid inscription, but she didn't need to read it to knw it. After all, it was one of the several things engraved in her mind.

 **Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.**

 **I show not your face but your heart's desire.**

Now that she knew what she adored - for Briar had never loved that _monster_ and she wished that she had never loved him and could hardly believe that she adored him - the new image wouldn't quite surprise her as the Amortentia had. But of course, she just had to jinx it.

There had to be a reason that her magic or Hogwarts had brought her here so she moved and closed her eyes, humming a tune she heard so long ago and one that-

When she sat down in the throne, her mind wandered to _Tom_ and wondered if _he_ had ever sat on this exact throne but her questions would never be answered and the words that had slipped through _his_ mouth had probably been lies - _or at least that was what she told herself_ \- because _he_ had been nothing but a cheat, a manipulator, and a liar.

Briar Rose Potter looked into the mirror that had once shown her with her parents adorning her sides with such bittersweet smiles on their faces, hands stroking her hair - she had hoped to feel it but it was nothing but an illusion and she saw _him_.

Tom Marvolo Riddle was to her left and she was no longer on her throne but she could see two thrones in the back - what for, she didn't know - and she had gained height and age. She was to his chin - she had only been to his chest previously - and her hair, which had always been short because of her _Aunt's favorite pastime,_ was long and wild yet tamed and luscious. Her eyes - bright, full of knowledge, with a glint to an unknown emotion, one she had never truly felt - crinkled with happiness as the mirror Tom's arms wrapped around her mirror self. A smile - not a fake one, or a smirk, or even one of his grins - but a true smile lit up his features and she had only seen it once. It had become one of her favorite things in the short time she had known him - before he had done _**that**_.

" _Tom, I just want to tell you that you are probably one of my closest friends as we are very similar and I've never felt quite like this about someone like this. Thank you Tom." Briar Rose smiled at the shade of the Slytherin teen and hugged him. She buried her head in his chin and let herself calm. His very presence lit up something_ _inside of her. He made her feel_ **whole**

 _"You are quite welcome my dear Briar Rose." She looked up to catch a glance of his eyes closed and a small smile on his face._

It was a memory that she never wanted to for-

Briar shook her head let the bittersweet memory fade, no matter remembering something that had no place in her new year.

 _(However if he had no place in her life, then why was he always reoccurring?)_

It seemed that even her own thoughts betrayed her.

She gazed back at the mirror and found her eyes drawn to the jewelry she was adorned in. A crown - it was so much more - on her head, an eagle spreading its wings and a large jewel in the middle. Around her neck was a medieval locket that looked to be pure gold with a serpentine S in a glittering dark emerald color set upon a stone. On her left hand, she bore a large gold ring and it was set with a obsidian stone with a small design in the middle of it. These were not normal pieces, of that she was sure.

Just as she was about to inspect herself further, the mirror Tom swept her off her feet and their faces looked so joyous. Briar Rose looked so happy that Briar almost believed the mirror's image but she knew the truth.

Tom Marvolo Riddle was a master manipulator. He was charismatic, electric, magnetic and everybody knew it. He fooled them all with his silver tongue, good looks, and his intelligence. However, Briar knew that he was everything aforementioned, _yet so much more._ He was a liar and a cheat. He used any means to meet his plans. If he thought it would make him prevail, he used it. It had hurt to know that everything he did and said was all a lie.

 _(Was it all lies? He shared his background and his signature didn't once waver? Yet so many other times it did and he said it due to being out of his diary for so long. Tell me Briar, why are lying to yourself?)_

Yet again, her own mind betrayed her. Briar had no answer, she never would have one.

 _(Hmmm, another lie? One might say that you're following in Tom's footsteps...)_

Briar's eyes widened and she let herself choke back on an upcoming tears.

"You are wrong. I am _**nothing**_ like him. I would never make someone depend on another so much so that when that person betrayed them, they _broke_. So when that person laughed and laughed and told the other that he was going to kill an innocent girl to get a body, he would let the other watch. I would never make someone care about another so much that when the truth came out, the other was left but a husk of her true self. I would never do _**that**_." Briar let out chokes of air and inhaled sharply as her vision blurred and her throat full of sobs. Her arms were wrapped her shoulder and her body shivered in time with her sobs.

"I hate him so much... I hate him. I hate him. I hate him. I... hate... him..." Her body rocked back and forth as her emotions finally caught up to her.

Her mind was silent once more and she was grateful.

It was a long while before she had finished crying and letting everything out. Briar pondered if she had ever even allowed herself to cry over him. Her.

She hadn't.

Briar got up from the corner - in which she had slowly moved to in her fit - of the room and left without looking back.

After all, desires were nothing but wishes and Briar knew that her wishes were ones that would never come to fruition. Tom Riddle was but a murderer and she hated him and yet... she still loved him.

(throughout her time in the room, she never did see the diadem that was gleaming in the moonlight under the starry ceiling.)


	2. ii: her friends

**Chapter Text**

When Briar falls into her bed and falls asleep, she dreams.

She dreams of a memory, two specifically, and they haunt her. A memory from long ago and one that introduced himself as one. They never seemed to leave her. The first memory was one she had seen glimpses of before when she was incredibly young and it had stopped reoccurring. Until now that is.

It began like a lullaby - sweet and endearing - with a woman with red hair and forest green eyes holding her humming a tune that she's heard before.

And then - out of no where - the chaos that they had spent so long circumventing, caught up and it erupted.

There's a sudden blast and the woman's eyes widen in disbelief or perhaps in fear.

Suddenly she hears:

 _"Lily, run! He's here! Protect-"_

Then, a cold and high pitched laugh bubbles in the air and the woman - _her mother,_ for who else could she be? - drops her in her crib and she is frantically searching and all that's heard is:

 ** **"Avada Kedavra."****

The woma- _her mother_ stops and she falls to the floor and she is sobbing and she feels the urge to as well and _her_ _mother_ rushes to the door in attempt to block it and it's then, she sees him.

He stands tall - taller even than the man with _radiant_ hazel eyes she often saw cradling her - and there's a tilt to his brows that she _now_ knows and even though she can't see well, she _knows_ that a sharp glint would be in his eyes and his lips would be in that half sneer half smirk. He's all too familiar now _and then_ his image blurs and he's no longer wearing the black robes before and his skin is no longer an alabaster white and no longer _stretched_. Suddenly, the man before her is the teenage boy that she knows _all too well_ and she must close her eyes.

 _"Please not my baby. Not my Briar. Please."_

She's back in mother's arms and is no longer facing the monster. Voices surround her and she can only hear murmurs of what's being said and yet she can perfectly hear:

 _"Mummy loves you Briar. Be brave my little Briar Rose."_

She sees the radiant green light before she hears the incantation that torments her.

 ** **"Avada Kedavra."****

She hears a _thunk_ and her mother is on the ground with blank eyes that seem too dull and doll-like.

Before she knows it, _Tom - Voldemort - her friend_ \- is in front of her and her vision is blurring and can't decide on which image is staring her in the eye.

And then, it's not the high pitched and oddly rough voice that calls out, but the smooth and velvety one she considers as _safe_.

Her _forest green_ eyes open and it's _Voldemort_ , _the_ Dark Lord, _the_ teenaged man she knew, _the_ murderer, her _friend_ , the one who left her in ruins, and the sickening green flares towards her and she knows no more but:

 **"Avada Kedavra."**

In itself, it is a memory, yet it's blighted by her own interpretations. A memory that has distressed her greatly but it's one of two that has her of parents in it so she latches onto it with a fierce determination despite how horrifying it is.

Yet it is the memory of _the_ boy, _the_ teenager, _the man_ , that seems to never leave her.

Tom Marvolo Riddle.

The dashing and charismatic prefect and soon to be Head Boy of the House of Slytherin.

The one whom was once asked what he was and answered, a memory.

This dream, this memory of one she had trusted _and-_

* * *

"Hello dearest. How are you today?" The world in which he lives in is a dreary one. There's no color and no movement. He can't taste food or feel the touch of something, for it's all but air. He could grab a book and read it, but there's no texture in the pages nor is there dust bunnies to be felt. All he has in his diary, is his sight and his thoughts, memories of what once was and perhaps never will be.

"Hello Tom! It's been quite a tiring day. I've helped Hermione with her studies, Ron with his homework, I've practiced with my team, and I still have to do three essays tonight. Other than that, I'm just swell." There's a small bite in Briar's voice as she says the last sentence. She still smiles. She drops her bag onto the floor of his Hogwarts and walks towards him and magic surrounds her. She ignores what falls out of his mouth and how he steps back. One step. Two step

Briar Rose knows what it's like feel nothing at all, to be alone, to want to be dead, to be locked inside a prison. In this way, she can relate to this state of him. She also knows that she is gifted in magic. Her magic does her biddings. Magic flows throughout her and it keeps her _alive_.

So perhaps, she can help him feel once more in this diary of his. Perhaps all he needs is _her_ magic - the one that survives - to feel alive again.

Therefore, when she touches him, she lets her magic rise and crash - like the deep, blue ocean - into him. It is a brilliant green color that rises from her and in the crevices of her magic lie an intense wine shade with black silver specks entwined with it.

Letting her magic out is like taking a breath - something you don't need to think about doing, you just do - and yet pulling it back in is an arduous task. She does it nonetheless and when she lifts her head. He is in front of her and he is with color.

There's a slight flush to his cheeks, and he is no longer the pasty white she had seen him with previously. She can see the green of his tie and emblem. His hair is not a dark gray nor is it dull. For now, it is a shade similar to the expresso shots she had stolen from her Aunt - not exactly brown, but not black. She can't see his eyes correctly for they pointed down at his hands, but they were wide open and most likely a light color.

Briar looks around at her surroundings. There is color and she feels the light breeze coming from the open window from behind her. She lets herself fall into the chair facing Tom and she can feel the plushness on her hand and how she sinks into the velvety cushion. She lets out a sigh.

 _It worked._

For Briar could never feel anything and Tom could only feel herself, and now... Well, if a smirk spreads on her face as she rests her chin on her folded hands, it's only Tom that can see this side of herself.

Tom seems to be out of his stupor and she watches as he touches items in his common room. His hair is swaying slightly in the breeze and there's a slight smile on his face. It warms her and her smirk shifts to a wide smile. She can feel her eyes getting heavy and her magic is vacant but she feels the remnants of it so she's not worried.

 _It seems different compared to how it looks now, but perhaps it's because it was in a time of impeccability and class,_ she thinks.

"Tom, I hope you like your gift. Happy Birthday..." Briar falls unconscious before she can see the way his eyes widen and then soften, but she does feel the way he strokes her hair.

* * *

Briar wakes with a gasp and ignores the tear tracks on her face, as well as the wetness on her pillow. She grabs her wand and casts 'Tempus'. It shows 4:09. She sighs and knows she won't be falling asleep anytime soon.

As quietly as one can, she gets out of her bed and begins the trek to the restroom. As she exits her shared room, she looks at the open curtains of her housemates with calm faces or smiling ones in most faces, and she feels _bitter_. She leaves rapidly before her thoughts go down a dark path.

 _(I'll never be normal.)_

Briar locks the bathroom door behind her and she slides down it as she sobs. It's the kind of sob that is silent - forced - and is heart wrenching. Her hands clench her face and tears fall in a salty pile. There's snot coming out of her nose. Her body shivers and shakes with each inhale of breath. She lies there and cries and ignores her poisonous thoughts.

"Why does it always have to be me? Why can't I be normal? Why must it always be me that must have tragedy?" The words barely leave her mouth in a whisper once she's let it _'all'_ out.

Briar forces herself to get up and once she does, she stares at her reflection in the mirror and she hates it.

Her hair is in two braids and her baby hairs are sticking up. There's deep and dark bags under her eyes and she is an alabaster white. She hates it. There's a scar above her brow and it strikes out like lightning against her skin. Her long sleeved shirts hangs off her shoulders and she can see the beginnings of her _childhood_ in thin pale scars. And of course her eyes, the color of the Killing Curse. It's such a sickening green that engulfs her face that she wonders if maybe that's why she can't bear to look at the mirror for long.

* * *

Briar Rose exits the bathroom with her curly hair tamed into side-swept loose curls and not a single baby hair in place. Her face has a healthy flush to it and the bags under her eyes and barely visible. She's wearing her uniform and it's clean with not a wrinkle in sight. For once, she looks like a proper girl and there's a slight smile on her face. She had two classes to go to today, Transfiguration and Defense Against the Dark Arts. The first time she'd be going to them for her third year. Her wand is in her holster which is on her upper right thigh, concealed by her skirt and long outer robes.

It had taken her just about an hour to fix up her appearance and she had ended up using her magic to do what she wanted, but now she is severely weak.

 _A full and proper meal should fix me right up... I think._ Briar creaked open the door to her shared room and found all but Lavender sleeping. Lavender was facing the opposite from her but she could see that she was gathering her things for a shower.

Briar coughed slightly and Lavender's head snapped towards her and her narrowed eyes widened in surprise.

"Rose, I thought you were sleeping?" It was more of a question than a statement and Briar could see how her eyes flickered between herself and her closed-curtained bed. ( _Briar flinched at the use of her previous nickname._ )

"I decided to get up a little earlier to try and fix my hair." Briar said as she slid in and closed the door and sat down next to her friend. "It was such a mess this morning."

"You look really great! I wish I had your confidence to rock that kind of hairstyle. I'd probably get them crooked, even if I did use my magic," Lavender's face sunk into her hands and let out a groan of frustration. Briar let a laugh bubble in her throat and spill and Lavender peeked though her hands and cracked out a chuckle.

"I could do it for you, if you'd like." Lavender's eyes shone and she bobbed her head like a puppy did after getting a treat.

"Wait, can you do it the day after tomorrow instead of today? I want to surprise my friends with it at Hogsmeade." Briar nodded and Lavender squealed and with that came a unison of groans from the rest of the girls.

Getting up from the bed, Briar grasped her wand and held it above her head and then she closed her eyes. In a second, a wide gust of wind went throughout the entire room and the lights were turned on. When she opened her eyes, she was greeted by irritated teenagers and their groans exclaiming that it was too early to be up.

"Up ladies! It's our first day for DADA and Transfiguration. Let's go before the boys eat all the pancakes." At this, a few giggles were let out and Briar's strict persona was broken by a small grin. "But seriously ladies, we have our Head of House as our first period and I think it is imperative that we arrive early and get to know what she will be teaching so that we can dominate that class. Am I right?" A series of 'whoop's and 'yeah's filtered through the room and it was soon - in twenty minutes - that everyone was up and ready to head to the Great Hall.

"Are you coming Briar?" From here, she could see Hermione at the as well as the way she glanced back at Briar, like she knew something.

"One second, Hermione! I'll be out in just a moment!" She waited for the tell-tale sound of the portrait being swung open, then closed and sighed when she did.

Looking at the empty room, she let the smile fall off her face and her gaze flickers between the items in her Common Room. They are warm, fine with age, and they remind her of _home_. Yet still - in the back of her mind - there is a room of green, silver, and black and a view of the deep lake with items that spoke of elegance that she just can't shake.

Briar stares at the room and _yes_ , she thinks, _this is my home and I wouldn't trade it for the world._ And it's true because this is where her ever-lasting friendships had been made and memories that _only_ contained joy were made here and she _loved_ it.

"Briar Rose Potter, if you don't come out right now, I will drag you kicking and screaming!" A smile spreads on her face and she wonders what she would do without Hermione when she was stumped. Such a kind and loyal friend was she.

"Coming Hermione, and this time I mean it!" There's quiet on the other side of the portrait and Briar takes that as the okay to come out. The Fat Lady yawns and says a 'Good Morning' before she closes and falls asleep once more.

"Honestly, you're the one who proposed for us to be early..." Her tempestuous best friend murmurs the rest under her breath, but it's surely not anything good.

"Well, we're still earlier than half of our house, so I think we're good. Also, please tell me how you get your voice through that thick wall and how you understood me through it?" Hermione stops in her steps and glares at Briar and Briar just smiles innocently and skips away. She is faintly aware of Hermione's frustrated scream. Not wanting to be hit so early in the morning, she books it for the Great Hall. Hermione stares and chases after her.

"Get back here you little twat!" Laughter rings through the entire floor.

* * *

A.N: Thank you to those who have left a review, followed, or favorited! It makes me happy that people enjoy this story as much as I do. Leave a review and tell me what you think about this chapter!


	3. iii: a boggart

"Do you reckon he'll be any good?" There's a slight pause in Ron's sentence, the inhaling of air that escaped him from running up a flight of stairs. Briar snorts slightly and nods her head, arms full of books with subjects she'll no doubt never need.

"I suppose so. I mean, how could one possibly be any worse than Lockhart and Quirrel?" There's a slight tremor in her voice as she says both of their names. Ron doesn't notice, instead his eyes are looking over the small planner she had gifted him, but he lets out a laugh and nods his head.

Ron glances at her and there's humor in those eyes of his and Briar is swept away by the love in his eyes, for it's all for her. There's some people you trust and others not, Ron was one she could. He saved her and she couldn't be more grateful. In times like these, she's reminded that she has a support system, but she could never tell them of Tom.

"-riar? Briar? Are you with me?" Ron has stopped in his tracks a few feet in front of her and she wonders when she stopped walking.

"Ah, sorry Ron. I got caught up in my thoughts." She gives him her sheepish smile and she returns it. She strides toward him and her boots make small clicks on the smooth ground.

"You were with Hermione earlier, right?" Briar nods her head and Ron continues. "Did she find a new shortcut? I could've sworn she was with us when we made that first turn and then she was gone!" Ron looks confused and she bet she does as well. It's a mystery how that girl works. Taking every elective was going to hurt her in the long end. Briar had no doubt that - in at least one class - Hermione was going to storm out and never return.

"I think I saw her run ahead of us into the corridor near Professor's Sprout's class. However, let's enter and see what's in store for us in this class." As she said that, they arrived at their classroom with the double-doors open. Half of the class was there already, Hermione included. Her eyes lit up as they saw them and she motioned them to her. Ron and Briar shared a look: We'll ask her later. They sat to her left, Briar in between her two best friends.

With a strike of a clock, 2:00, the lesson began.

* * *

It was such a familiar scene in front of him. Children smiling and whispering behind backhands, giggling slightly. It warmed his heart. It was sights like these that reminded him of why exactly why he took the mantle of teacher.

His eyes peered over the class from the corner of the room, _lurking_ , and he wondered how far their fears would be. There were many types of fear and he was instructed to figure out which each and every student had. There were fears of people, unanimated objects, animals, monsters, situations, and more. It was those with fears of people and situations - memories or what may come in the future - that he had to note down.

As he pondered over his lesson plans, he never noticed the entrance of the green eyed girl and her freckled friend.

A strike of a clock and the room was full and eerily silent.

 _Time to make an appearance_. Remus thought with a sharp smirk. With a flick of his wand, the lights flickered off and murmurs swept in the room. With a blaring crack, he appeared in font of his desk and the light shine on him and an _'eep'_ went throughout the room when he appeared.

 _Perfect_.

"Hello and good evening to you all. I am Professor Lupin and I will be teaching you your third year of Defense Against the Dark Arts." Remus smiled at the excited faces of the third years and contained the chuckle, it was obviously their first time having a small performance like he had done.

"Wicked!" His eyes peered over the red head who exclaimed the sentence, many seemed to agree with the boy and let it be known. Remus made the mistake of looking to the left of the boy, for there was the girl with wine colored hair and lightning streaking across her forehead. His breath left him and he cleared his throat - _not now, lupin. pull yourself together._ \- and the class quieted down.

"Today, we will be leaning about a boggart," explained Remus as he told everyone to leave their desks, grabs their wands, and follow him to the cleared area with nothing but a wardrobe in sight. "It is a shape shifter, which will assume the form of a person's worst fear. They like dark, enclosed spaces, like wardrobes or beneath beds, which in the muggle world has lead to them being known as a bogeyman, although muggles rarely see boggarts plainly, and instead assume them to be a figment of their imagination. Now, nobody knows exactly what a boggart looks like when it is alone - right now, it is just waiting to be released from the wardrobe, to assume a nightmare."

The previous excited mood was then flushed and everyone looked at each other nervously. Those who were near the wardrobe, slowly made their way to the back of the group. Remus's smile grew gentle and said, "A boggart, whilst it feeds off fear, is hurt by the simplest of remedies; laughter. Laughter is poisonous to a boggart, and is a surefire way to chase them off."

A girl with bushy brown hair raised her hand immediately and Remus recognized her to be Hermione Granger, and called on her. "How exactly do we laugh at our worst fears?" Her voice was strong, but her eyes were filled of worry and kept flitting to another.

"This is what I will be teaching you today. there are many ways to overcome a boggart in order to make it funny. If facing a boggart, it is a good idea not to do so alone - that way, the boggart is more likely to get confused. A boggart is confused when a person has more than one great fear, or when there are multiple people with different fears nearby. In an attempt to scare them all, the boggart can sometimes make itself not scary at all. For example, one person is afraid of a huge slug, the other of a headless corpse. The boggart might turn itself into a half slug - which is far more comical than terrifying."

"When you are alone," Lupin carried on, "and need to do away with a boggart, there is a spell specifically designed to force the boggart to transform into something you find funny, or ridiculous. That's an easy way to remember the incantation, which is _Riddikulus._ The key thing about this spell is that you have a good focus and a strong image of what form you want to force the boggart to take. The incantation and wand movement - which goes like this, copy me, yes, that's right - don't do anything on their own. Now," he said, clapping his hands together, "who wants to go first?"

It was not a surprise when nobody raised their hand. He expected it and so when he decided to choose the one who looked the most nervous, Neville Longbottom. Briar, from what he could see, whispered something in his ear and gave him a small, gentle smile. This seemed to ease him, as he walked up to Remus with a straight back.

He was shocked when the boggart turned into Snape, and made a note of it. So he gave Neville advice on what to do and soon Snape was in bright pink clothing with a sunhat on his head, and all with a swish and a yell of "Riddikulus!"

A line formed when they saw that Neville was able to accomplish it and a few seemed to be apprehensive, Briar seeming to be one along with all of Slytherin.

Dean Thomas was afraid of zombies. Lavender Brown's fear was a mummy. Seamus Finnegan's fear was a banshee. Then, the cycle was broken and then Remus watched as Parvati's bogart turned into an older version of herself - grey and wrinkly - but the girl's eyes were staring at the boggart's vacant left finger. She was afraid of growing old alone.

And then - Parvati's eyes were hard and determined - a shout of "Riddikulus!" and the boggart became nothing more than a puppet dancing a jig on strings.

The red haired boy from earlier stepped up and the boggart grew into a troll and a club that was splattered with blood and something else - hair? - and he swished his wand and with a whisper, the troll became a small spider, the size of an ant. He looked at his friends with a wide smile and they returned it.

Hermione stepped up and the boggart stood there morphing, and it looked like it would be Professor McGonagall before it morphed into a book taller than he and on the page lay:

 _Basilisks._

 _The Basilisk is a giant serpent, also known as the King of Serpent. Herpo the Foul was the first to breed a Basilisk; he accomplished this by hatching a beneath a which resulted in the creature known as a Basilisk._

 _The Basilisk has a classification as an XXXXX creature, meaning it is a known wizard-killer that cannot be domesticated due to its immense powers._

 ** **Pipes.**** ****

There was more to read but Hermione had calmly said the incantation and the book was then shrunk into a mound of sand. Remus wondered why it wasn't the actual monster but he supposed there was a reason to her fear.

And then Briar Rose - sweet, sweet Briar Rose - stepped to the queue and there was a slight - barely noticeable - tremor to her step and then the boggart was morphed into a boy with scarlet eyes. Remus watched as her eyes widened and there was a glass sheen to them. This was not going to go well.

* * *

 _Our worst fears?_ Briar thought today was going to be fine. She was feeling happy with thoughts of _murder_ and _him_ far from her mind. And now, she had to face her fears. This was not a good idea.

Briar could see Hermione's and Ron's worried glances at her and she knew that she wouldn't let them worry for her anymore than they already did. She gave them a tight smile.

"Mr. Longbottom, could you step up here?" Neville, who was in front of her, started to hyperventilate. She stepped forward and gave him a small hug.

"You'll do just fine, my dear god-brother. If anything, I'll go up there and help you with it if the Professor doesn't. I believe in you." Her voice was lower than a whisper but he heard it just fine and he walked to the front with no nervousness and she felt proud of him. It was just too bad she wouldn't be able to do the same.

She was relieved yet surprised when the entity became Professor Snape and not the Lestrange woman. Perhaps, he was more brave than anyone else, her included.

She watched him change the man into an outfit she had seen Dowager Longbottom wearing once and she let out a small giggle.

Then, he stepped away and Dean stepped up and his zombie was eating his own brains. The mummy's own wraps began to unwrap when Lavender yelled the spell. Seamus's banshee lost her voice and looked quite weird.

Parvati stepped up and in shifted into herself but she was old and she knew exactly what her fear was and with a look, she confirmed her suspicions. Briar remembered the talk that she had with the Indian girl last year and she could remember the tears that Parvati shed over fiancée's death. It was arranged but she had known him for years and he was dear to her. It was the day when she realized there was more to the girl than she had ever known. She wanted to hug her friend but she knew that she would be fine right now.

Briar Rose shook her head when she realized that Parvati was walking towards the crowd once more and she ran forward and gave her hug. Parvati returned it enthusiastically.

Briar's eyes flitted over to Ron - he was next - and she wondered what it would be. A spider? Perhaps something worse. She had no clue, but he knew what he would see because Ron didn't flinch as the boggart brew and grew into a troll - the troll from her first year - and her eyes looked at the club which had blood and if she looked closer she could see strands of brown curly hair - Hermione's hair - and wine colored curls - her own.

It was just more proof of their friendship and her heart fluttered at the notion. It was kind of sweet, in a very, very dark way.

The troll shrunk and it was Hermione who went up next - but only having a group hug. Again, like Ron, she had no clue what exactly her fear would be, but she had an inkling.

Failure. It was one thing that Briar knew for certain that her best female friend feared. So when the boggart decided on the book, her heart clenched.

It was the page that had solved the mystery - both Hermione and Ron had been petrified and she remembered seeing the page clenched in her hands - of the monster. It had been so obvious and yet in the end, it had taken them all so long to figure it out.

Hermione's fear was the outcome of would have happened if she hadn't figured it out, if she hadn't grabbed the ripped page. It was a topic that only the three would approach together. Hermione's eyes were unforgiving as she cast the spell. Briar watched as the book became a mound of sand.

Hermione turned around and she inhaled and then exhaled. The trio looked at each other and they silently agreed to talk to talk about it later.

Now, it was Briar's time and she was terrified.

What would the boggart morph into? She had no idea and that was what made the walk towards the boggart horrifying.

And then, the boggart morphed into Tom Riddle, eyes scarlet and dark. Tie, a green and silver striped one. Hair combed perfectly to the side, aside from one unruly curl - one that he had complained about at times. His mouth in that twisted smirk of his.

 _There was nothing else it could have been_ , she thought. She could laugh at how stupid she had been, thinking it could have been someone else. She had every right to be terrified of him and she was and she still felt her heart break a little when he appeared.

She ignored Lavender's gasp, Hermione's questioning eyes, and somewhere behind her she could hear Malfoy go on about how he didn't who that student was and how he found it hilarious that it was a Slytherin. No, all her focus was on _him_.

Tom was standing and in his hands was a little black book - a diary. The diary she had fell into many times before she had destroyed it with a fang.

He took one step forward and she took one back - this dance was not one she liked as it reminded her far too much of _****that****_ night - and then he was in front of her on the floor and his image flickered into a small girl with dull - dead - eyes and dirty red hair, Ginny Weasley.

Then he reappeared behind her and she could see the defiant twist to his mouth - a smirk sharper than a basilisk fang - and he whispered, " Hello, my dearest Rose, do you like what I've done? This is what you wanted, correct?" Rose could feel a tear fall down her face and her body tremble even more that it became known to those in the room.

"You wanted me to be free and this is how it will happen." His arms hang around her shoulders and she can feel his breath on her neck.

"Ri-ridikk-" Her voice trembles and her eyes are on Ginny, it's the Chambers all over again. She is hyperventilating, this she knows but they don't.

"My Rose~" His voice is still like a siren's, alluring yet beyond dangerous. "Do you remember what you said to me?" Rose knows what he is referencing to and she is beyond scared to admit.

"No? Well I'll say it for me. You said it many times, you know. Before you killed me that is." There's a gasp at his words. They are treating her situation like those novellas that her Aunt once watched. After all, how could the Golden Girl kill someone?

" _I love you, Tom. I would do anything for you._ " His voice is slightly different and by the looks on Professor Lupin's face, he is speaking Parseltongue. She can do this, Rose thinks.

She ignores Ginny's cold body and rips herself out of Tom's grasp and her voice is strong as she says, "Riddikulus." Ginny's body disappears and Tom is screaming and the diary falls to the ground with a thud and suddenly there's a fang in it and yet she still hears:

"You did well, dear."

Briar wants to die, just like Rose did.

And then all eyes are on her and Briar can't take the attention, not right now. For there is Amortentia in the air, there has to be - for how else could she actually smell him still? Her eyes are unfocused and she ignores her tears and Hermione and Ron are walking towards her and she can see Professor Lupin put away the boggart - his own turning into a white floating orb - and there's too many eyes on her.

And so she runs.


End file.
